Tempocalyse
Apologies to all for incommunicado, but this week I have mostly been in the stacks, surviving on dust and old post-its and slowly beginning to turn feral. Is very weird down there. Am pretty much left on my own, which I approve of enormously, but occasionally an unfamiliar rustling indicates the presence of an interloper. Generally, I tentatively approach the stranger, giving the customary greeting ('I am Jane of the tribe Accounts Payable, all your Archive is belong to me') engaging in some rudimentary oatcake-for-teabag bartering and comparing papercuts. From time to time I come across strange little men in glasses, forlorn and muttering 'B0077458... d'you know, I thought I saw it once, a few weeks back, must have been a mirage...' But I am above such things. For I have been promoted from the rank of mere filing clerk to the illustrious position of filing clerk with large, metal trolley. Observe my bling! Behold the insignia of my newfound status, my power to crush the fallen bodies of lesser clerks beneath my wheels and, more importantly, to seriously bugger up the filing system, should the mood take me.
Had to abandon the Playfair for the time being as they have a conference on. Was waiting outside for a break in which to retrieve my files when approached by random man in suit who asks if I've been sent outside for talking. Dolefully, I shake my head. "Caught passing notes" I whisper. Finally they stop for coffee and I fight my way through the caffeine-hungry throng, desperately fighting a very silly urge to go up to the speaker and ask for her autograph. And so back to the stacks and terrifying the normal surface dwelling employees when they come across a giant filing clerk, carting their body weight in box files above her head and merrily singing 'basket case.'
Day 7, and the realisation that woman cannot live by post-its alone. Fortunately, the Archive provides all and I find a friendly, ponytailed specimen filed in the 'casuals' section.
In other news, someone asked me to do the flowers for her wedding (pity the fool) and, outside the world of work, hurray for the following; Elizabeth's birthday celebrations, comedy clubs (particularly bungee bomb disposal) being taken out to dinner, my orchid for flowering, Chuck and Tammy for the wine, Phil for being a good, non-scary flatmate, various people for giving me compliments, and radio 4 for 'I'd hold that banknote up to the light if I were you.'
Had to abandon the Playfair for the time being as they have a conference on. Was waiting outside for a break in which to retrieve my files when approached by random man in suit who asks if I've been sent outside for talking. Dolefully, I shake my head. "Caught passing notes" I whisper. Finally they stop for coffee and I fight my way through the caffeine-hungry throng, desperately fighting a very silly urge to go up to the speaker and ask for her autograph. And so back to the stacks and terrifying the normal surface dwelling employees when they come across a giant filing clerk, carting their body weight in box files above her head and merrily singing 'basket case.'
Day 7, and the realisation that woman cannot live by post-its alone. Fortunately, the Archive provides all and I find a friendly, ponytailed specimen filed in the 'casuals' section.
In other news, someone asked me to do the flowers for her wedding (pity the fool) and, outside the world of work, hurray for the following; Elizabeth's birthday celebrations, comedy clubs (particularly bungee bomb disposal) being taken out to dinner, my orchid for flowering, Chuck and Tammy for the wine, Phil for being a good, non-scary flatmate, various people for giving me compliments, and radio 4 for 'I'd hold that banknote up to the light if I were you.'